


goodmorning

by orphan_account



Category: Buzzfeed Unsolved (Web Series)
Genre: Accidental Marriage, Las Vegas Wedding, M/M, some idiots drink too much and wake up married, will they stay married? we'll find out
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-22
Updated: 2018-04-22
Packaged: 2019-04-26 13:19:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,343
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14402955
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Prompt fill for "Don’t panic but I think we might have accidentally gotten married…”. or, Shane and Ryan wake up married and figure out whether or not they'll stay married.





	goodmorning

**Author's Note:**

  * For [poetdameron](https://archiveofourown.org/users/poetdameron/gifts).



> I did a fic lottery to celebrate 500 followers and only got two entries so I'm doing them both! This is the first one.

Shane had woken up in the Las Vegas hotel room well after the clock read noon. His insides had felt like they were swimming laps when he’d gotten out of bed, and the toilet bowl had greeted his face with a reassuring white colour.

He’s just about sat back down on his bed after brushing his teeth and splashing some water on his pale face when there’s a knock on the door. Shane openly grumbles and decides he can ignore it until he hears a familiar voice.

“Shane! Open up!”

“The world better be ending or some shit—” he barely gets out before Ryan pushes past him, practically running into the room. “—woah, little guy. What’s so urgent?”

Ryan paces around for a bit like he doesn’t know what to do with himself, and Shane can tell instantly that something is wrong. He’s usually straight to the point.

“Don’t panic, but I think we might have accidentally gotten married,” is all he says before he hands Shane a crumpled piece of paper and slumping down on the unmade double bed; it’s still warm.

Shane looks down at it and through the hangover, it takes a second for his brain to catch up to what he’s reading; all the words are kinda jumbled, just sprawled onto the white-bordered page like they’re a different language. He reads out loud when he can finally make sense of it.

“This is to certify that—the act of marriage—Las Vegas County…Ryan, what the fuck?” he asks, his eyes wide in realisation.

“You’re telling me, dude! I have no fucking idea either,” Ryan answers with his head in his hands, still lying down like he’s accepted his death.

Shane, still in a stunned state, sits down next to him. He rereads the marriage certificate over and over as if that’s going to make it any less real. It’s odd, really, because if it weren’t for that piece of paper certifying that they’re now husbands, there would be no way to tell; no rings or wedding photos, or—

 _Oh no,_ he thinks.

“Are there photos? I mean, I don’t remember, but like, there has to be, yeah?”

Ryan just throws his hands up at the ceiling and lets them fall back at this side again with a soft _thud. “_ I mean, probably, but I don’t think we’d look very good in them.”

He gives Ryan a hum at that—he’s not wrong, but part of him wants to see, to know if they walked down the aisle in some shitty twenty-four-hour chapel on the side of the road with an angel neon sign. Another quieter, more subdued part of him wants to know if they kissed after saying their vows, if he carried Ryan out bridal-style or not.

As evidenced by the fact they slept in their own separate rooms provided by the company, their “marriage” wasn’t consummated, per se, and that reassures him. It’s been a few years since Shane realised most people don’t want to pin their best friend to the nearest wall when they get mildly annoyed by their bad jokes, and he wouldn’t want the first time he had Ryan all to himself to be forgotten in a blur of alcohol.

“So do you think we did this as a dare, or what?” Shane asks after a long silence, fully aware that Ryan doesn’t remember either.

Ryan straightens up and sits up next to him, their knees almost touching. “Nah, I reckon it was like, a ‘we’re practically married already’ type of thing.”

“Are we?” Shane’s eyes are expectant, his stomach feeling warm hearing Ryan remotely suggesting that.

“I mean,” Ryan laughs, “yeah. You spend like three nights a week at my apartment and get me eggs on the way there when I’m running out. Isn’t that what married couples do?”

“I don’t think being married involves watching every bad action movie on Netflix and ordering Chipotle delivery when there’s one down the road, Ryan.”

“Yeah? What do you think marriage is, then?”

“I—I don’t know, just—” All of a sudden, Shane’s thoughts are a going a mile a minute, like if he says the wrong thing Ryan will walk away and leave him to sit in a hotel room he can’t afford with his three-day stubble. “I guess married people do married shit like laundry and going to the farmers market and garage sales on the weekend.”

“Doesn’t mean you can’t also order stupid food at fuck shit o’clock on a Thursday, though.”

Shane squints. He can almost see what Ryan is implying in his peripheral vision, just out of his grasp—it’s warm and tender, and he doesn’t know what the most sensible thing to do would be, but he’s too hungover to come up with any other option than running with it. So he does. “You’d like that?”

“Yeah, I mean,” he could swear Ryan is inching closer, but that could be his foggy brain playing tricks on him, maybe. “this isn’t too bad, is it? Plus, hell of a story.”

“Ryan Bergara, are you proposing to me?” Shane smiles nervously like he’s a second away from short-circuiting.

“We’re already, married, idiot,” Ryan retorts before he reaches over the rest of the gap in between them and pulls Shane into a kiss that tastes like bad hotel toothpaste.

It’s not the way he ever pictured their first kiss going if there was going to be one, but they’ve never really done things the way most people do, Shane realises when Ryan slips his tongue into his mouth and grabs the sides of his face with both hands. They’d been in each other’s pockets from about three weeks after they’d first met, all entirely due to the fact there was a free desk across from Ryan in the old office and shared way more stories in the light of a late-night Diner after an investigation than most people do with just a coworker. Even after the cameras were put away, they were each other’s sidekick. Shane figures marriage is just having a sidekick for life, and that doesn’t feel so different from what they are now; they can do the falling in love part later, after the fact, though he personally suspects he’s already most of the way there.

“Come on,” he says against Ryan’s lips after about ten minutes of them just making out on the bed, pulling him to his feet, and Ryan follows— it hits him then that it’s usually the opposite, with him following Ryan, but he doesn’t mind the reversal. “I think we need a shower.”

He walks his friend ( _husband_ still doesn’t feel right when he thinks of it, maybe _partner_ is more appropriate) backwards into the bathroom, and the shower’s big enough for two with wide grey tiles.

“This okay?” he asks after he presses Ryan’s back into the tile and starts stroking him slowly, bracing himself with his left hand next to Ryan’s head on the tile.

“Yeah,” Ryan breathes, “it’s more than okay.”

_______________

 

Sometime later, tangled up in the sheets with the marriage license forgotten in the corner of the room somewhere, Shane realises they’re going to be okay.

They leave Las Vegas with no desire to get the union annulled whatsoever. Their marriage, as Ryan puts it, is finally ‘properly consummated’ a few hours after their plane lands back in LA when Shane presses him into his mattress and pounds into him.

_______________

 

Shane finds a wacky frame at a garage sale a couple months later and hands it to Ryan once he’s paid for it. “To frame our stupid crumpled marriage license,” he says.

“You do know we could just request a new one any time, right?” Ryan’s smiling and he looks so soft like this, wearing sunglasses and a sleeveless shirt in the sun.

“Yeah, but it’d be less authentic.”

Ryan presses a kiss to his lips then and grabs him by the hand to lead him further down the street. “Come on, big guy.”

Shane gladly follows.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! I would love to know what you think! <3


End file.
